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harpers-ramblings · 2 days ago

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i am completly hooked on this dont mind me reading part 2

Kinda Outa Luck

pairing: jason todd x fem!reader

summary: based off of the song ‘Kinda Outa Luck’ by lana del rey👩‍❤️‍💋‍👩 . reader is kinda inspired by catwoman in the batman , she works in a club, and on the low she’s gothams most wanted female thief. She is gorgeous, and she uses it to her advantage. Oh, did i mention she has a thing for the Red Hood? And, honesty, he does too, though he is pretty shit at hiding it. PT 1

warnings: EVENTUAL 18+ MDNI, mentions of clubs, tying up, begging, mentions of sexual natures and strippers, slapping, unprotected sex, p in v, teasing, some fluff and angst, enemies with benefits??

a/n:. guys if i’m being honest i’m not in the best place right now. but i really wanted to write this.. i’m also ovulating so enjoy 💓 . ( also i’m terribly bad at writing smut i’m SO sorry if this isn’t up to standard😰 . )

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“ you never cared what i did at all

motel singer or the silver pole

i did what i had to do.. „

Everyone in Gotham knew who you were. Everyone knew you as the sexy, sly femme fatale who always got her way no matter the cost. You were a goddess. Females in Gotham would normally be petrified to have the confidence and power that you own. Even just working at the classy ‘Iceberg Lounge’ people would respect the floors you walked on. With millions of men drooling and tugging at your sequinned heels, begging for an ounce of attention as you deliver drinks and messages to your boss.

However, they never knew the true side of you. Sure, they established your mysterious ways to make men fawn and yearn for even a slight glance their way. But, they never knew who you were when the night called. Gotham’s most agile, seductive and infamously known thief and burglar in the whole of gotham.

Tugging on your skintight bodysuit, you swiftly rushed the inky latex onto your body, fiddling with the zipper which ended in the midst of your breasts, forcefully plunging them up. The material clinged firmly onto your fair skin, and fit you like a glove since the last time you’ve worn it. A melodic sensation of mischief trickled down your spine as you twirled your locks through the soft of your fingers, the sandy brown hair clutching onto the suit as you quickly collected the belongings and equipment needed for tonight’s schemes; and a smirk crept onto your faint lips.

“ femme fatale

always on the run

diamonds on my wrist

whiskey on my tongue „

The shattering of a reflective glass splattered like watercolored paint onto the cool, marbled floor, leaving an open space for fluorescent beams of silver moonlight to pour through, drowning the room in a luminous ember.

The tranquil ambiance was soon interrupted when you quickly realised your mission. Swiftly swaying, you made your way to the jewellery display, peering at each of the rectangular, glass containers which secured each sentimental crystal. After picking the lock seamlessly, you slowly reached for the antique jewel, wrapping the soft, translucent gemstone inside the palm of the glove. The jewel reflected a shimmer from the gleam of the moon; an overworldly beauty traced upon it.

Suddenly, an alarm went off. Then another. Then another; the blaring noise agitating your ear canals. And then you were pulled away along with a strong pair of hands covering your mouth, smudging your lined lips and a hand gripped tightly around your waist. The figure hauled you away, pushing you against a wall; the cool brick against rubbing your back, spiking chills and your hairs on the back of your neck to rise.

“—Don’t speak.” An uncomfortably familiar voice muttered. His hand still on your mouth, covering your ability to curse him out as his head peaks around the corner to check for other criminals.

Glaring up at him with narrowed eyes, the light shone into his crimson mask; milky eyes disguised against his true identity. Gazing down, you could barely make out the murky suit he was wearing, the red hood symbol on the chest area and although your sight was a blurry haze, the clear display of his toned abdomen send veins of arousal to your core. Undeniably and unethically.

You managed to pull his hand off if your mouth, and the words “ Red, what the fuck are yo— “ could barely escape your mouth before he slammed you against the wall to get you to stop speaking as he noticed criminals run past. A light groan fell from your lips, and seeped into the material of his gloves; the warm of your breath igniting against his palm and in that moment, he scowled down at you.

Steadily removing his palm from your mouth, you could feel your heart beating out of your chest. Fast enough that he could probably hear it through his mask. “ Stay here, ‘m gonna go take care of this quick. “ his annoying voice echoed through his mask. You only pierced your eyes at him and crossed your arms over your chest before he quickly went to go and fight the criminals. His tall shadow swaying further away, and you couldn’t help but notice him look back to make sure you were still there.

You just stood there and watched as Red Hood took care of the criminals, putting them in their place and leaving them unconscious. With snark, he walked over to you, his hands flying up in the air in defence as you were about to open your lips parted, getting ready to curse him out.

“ Jesus, Red.. —you stalkin’ me or somethin’?! “ your voice was only a groan, a stubborn one at that. You were frustrated at him as he interfered with your carefree mission; but you were also pissed because he didn’t think you could handle those criminals alone. It made an infuriated glow grind down your spine, and one that made you seemed belittled against him.

He only scoffed, tilting his head at your ignorant comment before he sighed. “ Just give back what you stole, doll..“ Your brows raised at his hilarious joke, he seriously thought you were going to give back what you took? “ finders keepers..” you couldn’t deny your mind was corrupted by a foreign haze after he mummer his nickname for you; ‘doll’.

“.. and losers—” were your last words before you inched closer, and suddenly attacking him with a sly punch in the hip, and then a kick in the rib. A harsh groan arose form his mouth, and he fell to the ground, the brisk marble against his knee caps. You rapidly ran away, avoiding turning back. Part of you knew he could’ve easily chased after you, part of him knee he could’ve easily chased after you, but he didn’t. Instead he just turned on his heel, observing you dim into the shadows.

PT 1 .

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harpers-ramblings · 5 days ago

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aaahhh i love this so much

commission for @constantfragmentation for their Regency!Silco fanfiction !

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harpers-ramblings · 26 days ago

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My entire thought after looking at to many book inspired art things

Jurassic Park

Watching the movie:

Reading the book:

To anyone who hasn’t read the book, it is genuinely horrifying. It’s great.

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harpers-ramblings · 27 days ago

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*grumbles in ghost form* fine you win for this once

Redemption

Chapter 6: Kingslayer

Summary: Daenerys got Rayn's side of the story. Will it match what Jaime tells her? And what will she do with her prisoners?

Notes: I am so sorry I disappeared for so long! I have been trying to turn Timeless Warrior into a published series. I make no promises on how consistent I will be, but I will be trying more. Thank you for your patience!

Jaime could hear the prisoner across the way, but no matter how many times he tried to call out to them, he never got a response. Occasionally, he heard his brother talk with the prisoner, but the answer was so low he could not tell if they were a man or woman.

Days passed, and it was the same: food, pacing his cell, talking to Tyrion, listening to Tyrion speak to the prisoner, more food, and then attempting to get the prisoner to talk to him. Jaime wondered why he was still alive each time the prison shook with a dragon’s roar.

Finally, the cell door opened and Tyrion was there, this time with Grey Worm.

“Our Queen is ready to speak with you.”

Jaime just simply nodded and held out his hands. “Then let’s get the chains on so we can get this over with.”

Rayn heard the chains and peeked through the bars of the window in the cell door. She caught sight of the back of Jaime’s head as Grey Worm lead him down the hall to the stairs leading up. There was a quiet sound of someone clearing their throat and Rayn looked down to see Tyrion under her door.

He looked up at her with sad eyes, but never said a word. Which lead Rayn to believe Jaime was heading to see the Queen.

And this could be the last time she sees him.

But she couldn’t call out to him. Her voice was stuck in her throat. Rayn heard Tyrion shuffle towards her, but she couldn’t bring her eyes to him again. She couldn’t tear her gaze away from the back of Jaime’s head.

As Jaime started up the stairs, Grey Worm turned to face her. As if he knew she would be watching. But all Rayn could do was take a deep breath and drop out of sight.

“So,” Daenerys asked Grey Worm in High Valyrian, “did she try to talk to him or stop him?”

“No. She waited until he was no longer facing her to look through the window and then dropped out of sight.”

Strange, Daenerys thought. Perhaps Rayn was right and they haven’t been in contact all these years.

There had been no word from the Unsullied that any conversation had been happening between Rayn and Jaime. In fact, it seemed as if Jaime had been trying to figure out who was in the dungeon with him, but Rayn had stayed stubbornly quiet.

Jaime was now in front of Daenerys as she sat on the Dragonstone throne, in chains and on his knees. He didn’t look scared, but also not arrogant. He wasn’t what she had pictured for the murderer of her father.

He was just a man.

“You will be given one chance to tell your story. The whole of it. What happened the night my father died, what happened after the rebellion, and the truth about your relationship with Rayn.”

My relationship with Rayn? Jaime wondered. What had Rayn told them?

He didn’t like going into a situation blind, but Daenerys face was like stone so he knew he would get no help there. Jaime did notice that Rayn wasn’t in the room, most likely so Jaime would not receive any hints from her as to whether or not he was telling matching stories.

Well, let’s get this over with, Jaime thought bitterly. Maybe I’ll see Rayn one last time before I am fed to the dragons.

So Jaime began to weave his tale, starting from how Cersei tricked him into being a King’s Guard to stay close to her, how the Mad King used him for leverage against his father, and how that lead to meeting Rayn.

And when he switched to talking about Rayn, Daenerys saw it. The softening of his eyes, the quiet of his tone, and the relaxing of his body. He was in love with her as Rayn was in love with him.

Jaime spoke of how their friendship started, the games they would play, and how he had wanted to find a way to escape with her to Essos without his father finding him.

That part surprised Daenerys. Rayn hadn’t mentioned anything at all about running away to Essos which lead her to believe Jaime never shared this desire with her.

It reminded her of Drogo’s promise to her all those years ago. Wanting to move the world for the one they loved. Or rather, thought they loved in Daenyers’ case.

He then spoke of the night he killed Dany’s father. How he wanted to end the war and get to Rayn before his father got to the Red Keep. But Jaime teared up at the memory of the kids being killed on his father’s order.

“I was charged by your brother to protect his wife and children and I promised myself to protect Rayn. I failed us both. All because I protected the realm first.” Jaime’s voice was steady, but there was no missing the pain in his eyes. “I do not expect you to forgive me for killing your father. But I had to. There would be no Red Keep or even King’s Landing had I not stopped him. But I will always bear the guilt for not saving your niece and nephew. And I will always hold myself responsible for not protecting Rayn.”

Daenerys kept her face blank but nodded her head. “Thank you, Ser Jaime, for your story. Grey Worm, you may take the prisoner back to his cell while I decide his fate.

In the Small Council room, Daenerys sat at the head of the Painted Table with Tyrion on her right and Messandei on her left. Lady Olenna, Yara Greyjoy and her brother, Theon, and Ellaria Sand all sat around the table.

Ser Jorah stood behind Daenerys as her personal guard and started the meeting. “How do you feel about their stories, Your Grace?”

Daenerys sighed. “They are nearly identical. And it is clear from the guards that have been watching their cells that they do not know the other is just across the hall.”

“I still believe you should kill them,” growled Ellaria. “You cannot trust a Lannister…outside of your Hand.”

“I would be more concerned with the Blackfyre you have downstairs,” stated Yara.

“Jaime does not even wish to be here,” Tyrion reminded them. “He told me upon his capture that all he wanted to know if Rayn was safe and wanted passage to Pentos.”

“If he is so in love with her, why did he not ask for Rayn to join them?” Messandei asked.

“Perhaps he did not think she would leave,” Jorah answered. “He may have thought Rayn was on the council.”

“It would be foolish to trust her,” reminded Yara. “Send them both across the Narrow Sea if you will not kill them.”

The council members went back and forth, with Lord Varys occasionally chiming in. But they only went back and forth between two choices: death or banishment.

Dany looked over at Olenna who hadn’t uttered a single word since the meeting started. She slowly stood up, causing the council to notice and go quiet.

“Lady Olenna, you have been awfully absent during this discussion. Do you have an opinion?”

The old lady smiled gently as all eyes turned towards her. “Perhaps because it will cause me to be removed from the room.”

Dany raised an eyebrow. “My Lady, I would never. You are free to speak in this room.”

“Then keep them. To take care of the threat up North, you will have to unite the kingdoms. To unite the realms, you need to deal with two usurpers: Cersei and Rayn’s brother.”

Danerys let out a deep sigh. How had she forgotten about the man pretending to be her nephew?

“How do we know she will not turn on us to join him?!” Yara demanded.

“Because of the gift Rayn bestowed upon me. My claim to my birthright.”

At her words, Barristen placed Blackfyre on the table before Daenerys.

“Well, fuck me,” Yara muttered.

Jaime heard the door creak open and he let out a sigh. The wait was finally over. He could only hope dying by dragon fire would be quick.

But Tyrion stood in the doorway with a smile on his face. “Come, dear brother! Our Queen has your room ready with fresh clothes!”

Jaime blinked at him. “Is this a trick?”

“Much to the disappointment of the Greyjoys and the Sands, it is not.” Tyrion stood to the side so Jaime could see that no one stood there with chains for him. “Let us get you cleaned up and ready for supper. We have a surprise for you there.”

Jaime grimaced. “A final dinner before my execution?”

Now Tyrion frowned. “Do not be so negative. Daenerys will never offer you a spot on her council, but she will not kill you. And after the wars are over, if you wish, she will provide passage to Pentos.”

Jaime was still suspicious but got up to follow his brother anyway. He wasn’t surprised to see the guard standing outside his new room, but he was surprised by the handmaid in his chambers there to help him draw a bath. He waved off her offer to help clean up and after some difficulty, finally met Tyrion outside of his room.

“Much better!” Tyrion remarked cheerfully. “Now, supper!”

Jaime couldn’t shake the feeling that something was waiting for him and since he was at Dragonstone, it wouldn’t be anything good. And sure enough, once he entered the room the other lords only looked at him before turning away to their own conversations. Jaime frowned down at Tyrion and looked around for an empty chair at the table.

“One moment, Ser Jaime,” came the soft voice of Olenna Tyrell. “You mustn’t forget your date.”

“My date?” Jaime turned around to face the way he came and his jaw dropped. Standing in front of him, in a beautiful black and red gown, was his Rayn. She smiled softly at him.

“Hello, Tracker.”

He couldn’t help the smile at the nickname she had given him after all their nights of hide-n-seek. Before Jaime could stop himself, he walked over and pulled her in for a hug.

“Seven hells, Rayn. I never thought I would see you again!”

“I know,” he could hear the tears in her words and when he pulled back, her eyes were watery. She then looked down at his hands. “Oh, Jaime.”

He used his good hand to tilt her chin up to look him in the eyes. “I’m ok. I was saved by someone braver and more noble than I. One day I will tell you the story, just know that…I am not that same boy from all those years ago.”

“Nor am I the same girl. But that is ok. Life is about growing and making mistakes, even big ones. All we can do is hope the gods allow us a chance to do right. And we can start by ridding the world of my brother.”

“Your brother? We do have much to catch up on. But first, I believe I am due for a real meal.”

She smiled. “I feel the same.

Tagging Crew:

Everything

@blackgaladriel

@liadamerondjarin

Jaime Lannister

@harpers-ramblings

@starkeila

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harpers-ramblings · 1 month ago

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👀👀👀👀 eeeep

Deep in the Woods: Part 1

Pairing: Soft!Dark Lumberjack!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Fic Summary: A relaxing getaway in the woods may become your permanent home when you catch the eye of a lumberjack.

Series Masterlist | Part 2

Chapter Summary: You encounter your grumpy temporary neighbor while attempting to chop some firewood.

Chapter Word Count: Over 3.3k

Chapter Warnings: DARK AU, bits of MCU canon, cheating mentioned (reader's ex), grumpy x sunshine trope, invasive behavior, reader is too trusting, Bucky Barnes (he's a warning and a bit rude at first, okay?), more warnings to come.

A/N: A new dark AU inspired by @darkficsyouneveraskedfor 's ask. ❤️‍🔥 Thanks to @targaryenvampireslayer for cheering me on! ❤️ Beta read by the lovely @whisperlullaby , but any and all mistakes are my own. Bucky edit by the beautiful @nixakimbo . Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

The sun shining in the sky was deceiving as you hauled a large piece of wood to the tree trunk. It was chillier than expected, and the cold would only get worse once the sun went down. Your cabin had heat, but you'd be stuck if it went out and you didn’t manage to chop some firewood. Making a fire you could handle. Chopping wood?

That was another story.

“Okay,” you smiled, setting the log upright and adjusting your gloves before you grabbed the axe. You gripped the handle tight, raising it above your head. “I got this.”

The blade hit the log almost dead center. Unsurprisingly though, it barely pierced the wood. You hunched over, tugging at the axe, nearly losing your balance in the process. “I still got this,” you huffed, shaking out your arms and swinging again.

The next swing went deeper, but only by an inch. The swing after that, you nearly missed completely. Sweat beaded on your forehead, your body warming despite the chill in the air. After a moment, you dropped the axe and stared at the log with your hands on your hips. It was nowhere near split.

“I don’t got this,” you sighed.

“Who the hell are you?” a gruff voice asked from behind you.

Your heart leapt to your throat as you spun around, and it raced even faster when you spotted a figure just a few feet away. He was a large man, and one of the most handsome men you had ever seen. He would likely tower over you if he stepped closer. His dark hair hung messily past his shoulders, while his perfectly trimmed beard gave him a rugged edge. The flannel he wore strained against the biceps of his muscular arms, one of the shades of blue matching his thunderous eyes.

Was he glaring at you?

“Hi,” you smiled, trying to sound friendly as you gestured toward the unchopped log. “I was just trying, and failing, to chop some firewood. I hope I'm not disturbing you.”

He kicked a small twig away with his boot. “I didn't ask what you were doing. I asked, ‘Who the hell are you?’”

Your smile slipped. Maybe he was local and didn't like outsiders, though something about him seemed familiar. “Oh, yeah. Right,” you said, giving him your name and nodding to the cabin nearby. “Mr. Hunter rented the place out to me. I’m staying for a couple of weeks. Just got here this morning.” You hoped the place wasn't double booked.

He relaxed a fraction, but his glare didn't disappear completely as he took out his phone and dialed a number. You heard a ring as he put it on speaker. While he tapped a foot impatiently, you weren't sure what to say or do.

“Howdy, neighbor,” a raspy voice answered on the other end.

“Did you rent out your place?” he asked, keeping his eyes on you when your face got hot. You wanted to yell that you wouldn't lie about something like that, but that didn't seem like a good idea.

“Yeah. Pretty lady. Paid in full upfront. Clean background, too.” You looked at your feet. It was weird to listen in even though it was on speaker. And did he say “clean background”? What did that mean? “Why? Is she-”

The man hung up the phone. “Didn't think he rented his cabin out anymore,” he said more to himself than you.

An awkward silence filled the air. “Yeah, well, apparently he does. I booked it a couple of months ago and he left a code to get in and some instructions for the place,” you explained, trying to smile again as you looked around and breathed in the fresh air. “It’s a really nice place and the view up here is gorgeous, like something out of a photograph. Do you live nearby?”

He grunted and jutted his chin out. “My cabin is the next one over to the left.”

“That’s nice,” you smiled more, grabbing the axe again. “And it was very interesting meeting you, temporary neighbor, but I should try to finish this up.”

Before you could blink, the man was directly in front of you with one hand on the handle. He was even bigger up close. “If you’re thinking of taking another swing at that log, don't,” he barked at you, snatching the axe from your hands. You weren’t sure if it was his tone or him grabbing it from you that made you flinch. “This isn't a toy, it’s dangerous. And from the looks of that log you have no business trying to do that to begin with.”

Your cheeks burned again. It was bad enough that this guy didn't take your word for staying at the cabin, but the last thing you needed was for some stranger to lecture or humiliate you, and a grumpy one at that. “Yeah, well, if my cheating asshole of a boyfriend hadn't been balls deep in his colleague, we wouldn't be having this conversation. He'd be out here chopping firewood and I’d be inside cooking, which is something I'm actually good at, thank you very much,” you snapped.

Your tone surprised him enough to let you take the axe back. “I didn't…” he trailed off when you held up a hand.

“You don't know me and that’s fine, but I’m trying to be friendly and that's more than you can say,” you continued, his nostrils flaring. He didn't have to be nice to you, but he didn't need to be rude either. “And not that it’s any of your business, but I'm stuck here by myself, I’m trying my best to make it work, and I don't need some random stranger out here giving me a hard time for no reason.”

Your eyes burned as he stared at you, but you squared your shoulders and held your head high. You spent enough time crying over a prick who wasn’t worth it and you refused to shed another tear because you deserved better than an unfaithful asshole. And you sure as hell wouldn't cry in front of some hot grump with a chip on his shoulder.

The man’s pensive look dissipated more of your sudden anger and his tone softened considerably when he asked, “You’re really out here by yourself?”

You tensed up. It wasn't smart of you to broadcast that you were all by your lonesome. “Yeah, for now,” you said, your voice softer, too. Maybe you could convince a friend to stop by for a day or so. “I know I’m not good with an axe, but I tried. I just wanted some firewood in case the heat went out for any reason,” you said, your shoulders sagging. “So if you don't mind, can I please finish up?”

He nodded, taking the axe more gently this time. “Let me,” he offered, your eyes wide at his change in demeanor. “And step back. I don't want you to get hurt.”

Once you moved out of the way, he lifted the axe and split the log down the middle with expert precision. With his view on the task at hand, you swept an appreciative gaze over him. The guy was a bit of a grump, but he filled his jeans out well. “I’m sorry I snapped at you, mister,” you told him, getting a grunt in response. “My problems aren't your problems and I didn't mean to get so defensive about my lack of wood chopping skills.”

“You can call me Bucky,” he said, grabbing another log. “And nothing to be sorry for. I didn't exactly lay out the welcome mat for you.”

“It’s… Wait, Bucky.” Your eyes widened in realization. “Bucky Barnes?”

He froze before he brought the axe down again. “Heard of me?”

“Of course I have. You helped save the world,” you smiled. Years back, an alien warlord had wiped out half of the population. Not only did a group of heroes called the Avengers help reverse the wipeout, but they stopped the monster with the help of many others across the galaxy. Bucky was one of those people. No wonder he seemed so familiar. “You’re a hero.”

A tortured one at that. You remembered seeing a few articles about him. A former prisoner of war turned brainwashed assassin turned hero. He was pardoned for the crimes committed while was brainwashed, and rightfully so in your opinion, and he went on to use his skills and expertise to help others.

What was he doing out here in the woods?

“Not really a hero anymore,” he said, brushing his hair back with his forearm. “Now I’m just a lumberjack who values his privacy.”

“Oh.” That answered your question. “I guess valuing your privacy explains why you didn't roll out the welcome mat,” you teased, wringing your fingers together. You felt kind of bad again for snapping at him. Given his past that you were aware of, it made sense why he would've been suspicious of someone new popping up near his home.

He stopped to glance at you. “Guess it’s my turn to apologize,” he said.

You blinked, not wanting to lose yourself in his deep gaze. “No need. I figured you were just a local who didn't like new people around.” You smiled at the pile of wood he made. “I think you chopping firewood for me is the perfect apology. You saved me a lot of time and trouble.”

He hummed, putting the blade in the tree trunk once he finished. “You said you cook?” he asked, wiping his gloves on his jeans as he faced you.

“Yeah. I actually have a stew keeping warm right now,” you replied, shifting on your feet when he stared you down. “Are you hungry? I made plenty.”

“Sure,” he shrugged.

“Okay.” Your smile faltered when you walked toward the cabin with Bucky close behind. Was it a good idea to invite him in when you didn't exactly know him? The guy was a hero though. No reason to be suspicious.

The aroma of seasonings, beef, and vegetables greeted you as you opened the door and set your gloves on the entry table. “If you don’t mind taking your boots off, that was one of the instructions,” you told him, removing yours and hanging your coat on the hook.

While the cabin wasn’t large, it was in great condition. It was also extremely clean and tidy. The guy who owned it likely didn’t want dirt on his floors.

“Yeah, God’s kind of picky about that stuff,” Bucky said, putting his gloves on top of yours. You caught a glimpse of his metal hand, but you quickly looked away. It wasn’t polite to stare.

“Wait. The G in G.B. Hunter stands for God?” Your brows pinched as you walked toward the kitchen. “What the hell does the B stand for?” you muttered to yourself.

“That’s really what it stands for. He’s a bit of a strange guy, but a good neighbor when he’s here,” Bucky said, following close again. He was practically on top of you. “So, your boyfriend. He-”

“Ex-boyfriend,” you corrected him, inhaling deeply as you lifted the lid from the warm pot. The scent brought a smile to your face and pushed a bit of the bitterness away. “What about him?”

Bucky grabbed a couple of bowls from the cupboard. He knew where the spoons were, too, so he was at least somewhat familiar with the place. You weren’t sure how that made you feel. “How long were you two together?”

“Almost a year,” you replied. A waste of about twelve months and it wouldn't be fun to start over again.

He set the bowls on the counter before he grabbed a couple of drinks, sweeping a look over you. “Did you catch him cheating?” he asked curiously.

You froze, the image of your ex scrambling to cover himself and his colleague up as you walked in taking over your mind. You had to blink multiple times to make the image go away, but it didn’t stop your stomach from turning. “Yep,” you answered, your throat tight. Why did he want to know? “Tried to give me some lame excuse that it wasn't what it looked like, but I slapped him and said we were done. I can forgive a lot of things, but cheating isn’t one of them.”

“Loyalty is a good trait to want in a partner,” he mused.

“It is, but it’s a trait he didn't have apparently. At least we didn’t live together,” you continued, taking a breath. It hurt and felt good to talk about it. “We were supposed to come up here for a getaway and I debated cancelling the reservation, but I figured it would be a good way to clear my head.”

The kitchen felt warmer and you figured it was because you were close to the stove until you realized Bucky was right at your back. You went rigid when he inhaled. Maybe he was just smelling the food. “I’m sorry you had to go through that,” he whispered, his breath hot against your ear.

You gripped the ladle until your hand ached. “Not your fault,” you whispered, keeping perfectly still. If you moved forward, the stove would burn you. If you moved back, you’d be right against him. It was a small kitchen, but there was no reason for him to stand so close.

You didn’t exhale until he moved to set the drinks on the table. “You got a job?” he asked.

Clearing your throat, you nodded, thankful for the change in topic. “Yeah, data entry. Not too exciting, but it’s decent pay and I don’t have to go into an office or deal with traffic.” You scooped a generous portion of stew into a bowl for him, just in case he was really hungry. “As long as I have my laptop and an internet connection, I can get the job done.”

“Must be nice,” he commented, but it sounded more admirable than sarcastic. “You said you and your ex didn’t live together. Do you have a roommate? Pets?”

You side-eyed him. The tone was casual, but what was with the multiple questions? “I live alone because my apartment is about the size of a shoebox,” you said. It was cozy though and yours. “Nice thing is the rent is cheap. Sad thing is the building is pet free.”

He took out his phone as you got your bowl ready. “I have a cat,” he said, shoving the phone close to your face. It was a photo of a beautiful white cat sitting by a window. It was endearing picturing a burly man holding such a delicate creature. “Her name’s Alpine.”

You smiled at the image. “She’s really beautiful. I’ve always loved cats.”

He smiled a little, too, but it went away as fast as it appeared. “She’s very particular with people, but you’re welcome to meet her.” He took the bowl from your hand to carry them to the small table nearby. “She might like you since you’re sweet.”

Heat rolled up your neck. “That’s nice of you to offer, but I wouldn’t want to impose,” you said. It wasn’t like you had any plans during your time there, but he had done enough by chopping the firewood for you.

His jaw ticked. “If it was an imposition I wouldn't have asked.”

“Oh, I wasn't trying to imply anything,” you promised, your stomach twisting in knots. It wasn't your intention to upset him.

“Are you allergic to cats?”

“No, I’m not,” you answered.

He set the bowls on the table and leveled you with a hard stare. “Then I think you should meet her,” he said, pulling out a chair for you. It sounded more like an order than a suggestion. “Sit.”

You hesitated before you sat down. “Okay then,” you said. Maybe he was trying to make up for being rude earlier by welcoming you in some capacity. “Does tomorrow work?”

His lip curled up in a smile, giving you a nod, too. “Tomorrow. Early afternoon,” he replied, taking a seat. How did he still look so big sitting down? You watched him blow on a spoonful of stew before he took a bite, his eyes shutting with a groan. It was a deep, primal sound and you shouldn't have liked hearing it. “This is… really good.”

You beamed, unable to help yourself. You took pride in your cooking. “I’m glad you like it,” you said, digging in, too. “So, you said you’re a lumberjack now. How long have you been doing that?”

He hunched over a bit as he took a few more bites, like he hadn't eaten all day. “About nine months. Tough mission happened and I had to walk away from it.” He shrugged dismissively. Did the mission have a bad outcome or was it just the straw that broke the camel’s back? It wasn’t any of your business. “Came out to the woods with Alpine, started chopping down trees to work out some of my frustration, and it somehow became my new job. The woods suit me better than the city anyway.”

“Yeah? How so?”

He shrugged again. “It’s quiet, peaceful. No judging or prying eyes,” he answered, pushing the now empty bowl away. It almost sounded like he was hiding from the world. “And I don’t mind working with my hands. Can chop trees down pretty fast and it doesn’t take long to get the logs to the sawmill. Even built some of my own furniture in my place.”

“You build your own furniture? That’s so cool,” you smiled. It took a moment, but he smiled back a little. “Being a lumberjack sounds like hard but satisfying work,” you added. You admired him for being a hero, but also for his new, humble lifestyle.

“Yeah, it is.” He leaned back in his chair, rubbing his stomach. “This might be rude to ask, but you wouldn’t mind making us lunch tomorrow, would you? I can cook, but it’s nothing like yours.”

You bit the inside of your cheek. Part of you took it as a compliment that he liked your cooking, but something in his stare made you want to squirm. Could it be the assumption that you were going to have lunch with him when all he said was that he wanted you to meet his cat? “I don’t mind,” you smiled. Maybe the guy was a bit lonely and just wanted someone to share a meal with. You could sympathize with that. “Anything in particular you like? If I don’t have it, I can go to town and-”

“Surprise me, doll.” The chair scraped along the floor as he pushed himself up, towering over the table and you. “And don’t bother going to town. Whatever you have here to cook, I’ll eat it.”

“I’ll surprise you then.” Your brows pinched as he went back to the kitchen. He walked around like he owned the place. “Oh, help yourself,” you said when he stopped at the stove for another bowl.

He paused to look back at you. His blue eyes looked a shade darker and you couldn’t help but shiver. “I plan to,” he stated.

You gave him a smile, discreetly patting your pants pocket to make sure you still had your phone on you. It wasn’t like you needed to call anyone for help, but you were all alone and had to be careful. You were still going to have a nice time though. It would be a relaxing trip and you could catch up on reading, relaxing, whatever you wanted.

Besides, Bucky was nearby just in case. The guy didn’t seem to have a complete sense of boundaries, but he wasn’t a bad guy. He was a hero. You didn’t have anything to fear.

Right?

Oh, our reader did herself no favors by answering truthfully that she's all alone. I wonder how Bucky will play this... Love and thanks for reading! ❤️

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

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